Dogs, Androids, Firemen & Tomatoes

wordplay: orangepeelmoses.com
image: Daft Arts

This one time, at Burning Man, I met a robot named Party Bot 4000.  Party was kind of a Short Circuit/Johnny 5 knockoff, but impressive “in person” nonetheless.  “Wanna see me pop?” he asked our small group of curious humans.  Hell yes we did.  Party proceeded to demonstrate a few of his finest moves.  Ever seen a robot do the Robot?  “You’d make a good raver!” exclaimed someone enthusiastically.  “Take that back!” quipped Party quickly in his predictably monotone voice.  Not surprisingly, laughter ensued immediately.

Everyone and their MILF has seen the inside of Paris, whether via webcam or idiot box, but Daft Punk lives there.  The President that gives female pubic hair a bad name is probably not a fan, considering his admitted disdain for all things French (French kissing can certainly survive without him, if only he’d warm up to a French leave, though--disappearing without saying goodbye:).  Daft doesn’t need Dubya in their fan club, though; it’s been overflowing for a decade already.  In fact, there’s probably a waiting list from here to France.  Music industry bible Rolling Stone called their Coachella performance the best of any last year.  Busta Rhymes, Kanye West and Missy Elliott have all shamelessly hijacked Daft samples and/or lyrics for their own ends.  Simply dropping their name into a song’s lyrics scored LCD Soundsystem a Grammy nod.  Even R2D2, arguably the world’s favorite droid, is clamoring for their autographs.  C3PO, Hal 9000, Johnny 5, Optimus Prime, Rosie and the Terminator are all in tight formation right behind him.

Daft Punk weren’t always the biggest robot rock stars on the planet.  Twenty years ago they were merely Thomas Bangaltar and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo, two music students tinkering with stringed instruments.  Darlin’, after the Beach Boys’ tune of the same name, was their first and last pre-Daft foray into indie rock (with “third wheel” Laurent Brancowitz).  Stereolab put out one of their songs on a compilation disc and offered them a few U.K. opening slots.  Without realizing the ginormous future impact of his actions, a jealous Melody Maker scribe deemed Darlin’ “a bunch of daft punk.”  All publicity’s good publicity, though, right?  Talk about transforming sh!+e into Shinola.  If only that lowly journalist was entitled to royalty checks, he might retire on a whim rather than from embarrassment:)

Nearly fifteen years ago, there was a rave at Disneyland (Disneyland Paris, to be precise).  If only the Hilton offspring were as much fun.  Bangalter and Homem-Christo were there, glow sticks and demo tapes in hand.  Conveniently, so was Soma Quality Recordings’ co-founder Stuart Macmillan.  Getting around was finally feasible for Daft’s debut single “New Wave.”  “Da Funk,” single number two, scored the boys a highly sought after date with Virgin.  Virgin offered up its most coveted prize on that first date, a piece of the pie.  All the boys had to do was finish their Homework first.  And finish their Homework they did.  Upon completion, the pie piece in question was all theirs for the taking.  Spike Jonze, Michel Gondry and Roman Coppola were each given a cut to shoot the woofer-banging orgy that transpired.  Mmmm…orgy pie:)  It was both delicious and highly satisfying for all involved, especially Virgin.

A face can certainly convey worlds about the person behind it, but coasting on one’s looks should be a punishable offense.  See Jessica Simpson or, God forbid, Paris Hilton.  After all, good looks are doled out kinda like winning lottery tickets, luck of the draw.  Very few shots of Bangalter’s and Homem-Christo’s faces exist, though.  The ones that do are intentionally blurred or digitally altered.  They even wore bags on their heads for a television interview once.  See, they’ve intelligently concealed them from the get-go.  After all, how many rock stars do their own grocery shopping?  An accurate statistic might be impossible to dig up, but, suffice it to say, the actual percentage is probably low.  While many prefer to avoid such menial labor, Bangalter and Homem-Christo delight in their well-paid anonymity.  They get to buy their own cake and eat it (on a public street if they choose) too. 
 
July 31st @ Red Rocks

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